


Keep It True, Keep It Real

by mariuspondmercy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/pseuds/mariuspondmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Enjolras is faced with a young woman who claims to be the mother of his five year old son, he couldn't have guessed just how much his life gets turned around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep It True, Keep It Real

He rubbed his eyes, and a glance on his watch told him it was nearly 3am. This stupid PhD was taking its toll on him, keeping him awake until late at night and forcing him to rise in the early morning hours. If he’d go to bed now and wake up at his usual time, he would still get roughly four hours of sleep. That wasn’t too bad now, was it?

Enjolras closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the migraine he could feel creeping its way into his head. Yes, it most certainly was time for bed.

In the end, he managed to get three and a half hours of sleep; the minimal amount needed for him to be functioning. Working on four coffees an hour, Enjolras actually got some reading done before he headed to work. Next to writing his thesis, he worked at a law office, which was specialised in the right of asylum. On top of that, he occasionally wrote for a social justice magazine, dealing with topics concerning France’s new equal marriage law, their health policy, or the educational system.

Most evenings of the week were reserved for meeting his friends. They had started out as a students’ club but were now a new political party on the rise. Maybe they could even make it into the parliament next elections. The chances were high for Les Amis de l’ABC.

Those evenings weren’t only filled with political talks. The inner circle of the party were close friends, and chatter about their private lives never came too short. Enjolras, usually the leader of their small group and their political party, enjoyed not being in focus during those nights. He enjoyed simply listening to the strange occurrences his oldest friend Combeferre had witnessed in the ER or the odd stories Jehan told about the adventures with his publisher. Hell, sometimes he even liked listening to Marius going on and on about his wife Cosette or Courfeyrac telling him all about the preparations for Musichetta’s, Bossuet’s and Joly’s wedding.

But such a full schedule of course meant that Enjolras had to work on his thesis at night or during the rare evenings he didn’t spend with his friends.

Tonight was such an evening. For Enjolras, it meant drinking coffee, wearing his favourite red hoodie and grey tracksuit bottoms while reading about the June Rebellion back in 1832. His thesis dealt with the question of failed revolutions and why they, in fact, didn’t fail at all.

When at half past nine his doorbell rang, Enjolras didn’t think any of it. It wasn’t unusual for Courfeyrac to pop by for a chat or for Joly to check in on him because his friend simply cared and thought he worked too much.

What was unusual though was the sight of a young woman with a small child on her arm.

She was probably in her early twenties but Enjolras wouldn’t bet on it. The woman wasn’t exactly pretty. Her face was fallen in, as if she had scarcely eaten. Her bony arms and legs suggested the same. Somehow she gave him an odd feeling deep down in his stomach; pity and worry alike mixed together.

Even though the boy slept, Enjolras could see that he was much healthier. Maybe 4 or 5 years old, he looked peaceful in his sleep. His blond curls were unruly but clean - unlike the woman’s hair. He seemed well fed, with rosy cheeks and clothes a little too big.

"How may I help you?" Enjolras asked.

"Hi. Uhm… You might not remember me. I’m Éponine. We met a few years ago. 5, to be precise." She glanced quickly at the little boy before turning her attention back to Enjolras, "I was 16, you were 22, we were drunk. Long story short, this is your son, Gavroche."

There was a long moment of silence.

Then: “I don’t want any money, Monsieur. That’s not why I’m here. I just… I finally found you and I didn’t want to take away your chance to meet your son. Or Gavroche’s chance to have a daddy.”

"Just… Come in and tell me your story." Enjolras stepped aside to let Éponine enter his flat.

After he had made the bed in the guest bedroom for Gavroche to sleep in, he made two cups of coffee. During the whole time, none had spoken a word.

"Don’t you want to sit down?" Enjolras asked as he noticed Éponine standing in the middle of his living room.

If she hadn’t had wanted money when she came, she probably wanted it now. Enjolras was well off; his flat certainly showed his wealth without being pompous or snobby. Simply the size and location of it indicated a certain amount of wealth.

"Sure, sorry." She threw him a smile and sat down on the sofa, took off her coat and thanked him for the coffee.

"Go on then. Tell me your story. Because I honestly don’t remember you."

"No wonder. You were pretty much drunk. So was I. As I said", she began, much more secure and self confident than mere minutes ago, "we met five years ago. I had a friend who went to university with you and your group of friends and he invited me to your party. I was 16 but I had always told him I was 18 already. Had a fake ID and all. At the end of the night I was drunk and frustrated and so were you. If I remember correctly, some news had upset you. Something about your mother, I think? Anyway, one thing led to another and we ended up in bed."  
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him. It wasn’t even a pretty smile, Enjolras noticed. Somewhat faked and forced, sad even.

“When I discovered I was pregnant, my parents weren’t really happy. We moved away and my parents took me out of school until Gavroche was born. Pretended it was their son, my brother. I didn’t know your name, nothing! All I remembered was someone telling me you’re called Apollo. Pretty sure that isn’t your real name though. I tried to find you but I had no luck.”

Éponine sighed. “The university wouldn’t give me any old university newspapers or yearbooks. Anyway. A few weeks ago I read about this new political party and I recognised you. Wasn’t very hard. Gavroche looks so much like you. The same hair, the same lips… Luckily he didn’t inherit my nose. It isn’t yours either but maybe your mum’s? Either way, I found your name, found out where you worked and yeah okay, I kinda tricked your secretary into telling me where you live. That was two days ago. I went back to my parents, got my stuff, quit my job, got Gavroche and came back to Paris. I might actually get into trouble because my parents are legally Gavroche’s parents. So no one would ask questions. But I just… I had to come now that I had finally found you."

Enjolras, who had listened patiently, now nodded. “Okay. You don’t want money, yet you have no job. You don’t want money, yet you left your life behind to come here. Where do you live? What do you plan on doing? How do you want to support Gavroche? Do you want to stay in Paris for longer? Do you expect me to let you live with me?”

Sighing, Éponine ran her hand through her messy dark hair and closed her eyes for a few seconds before answering him. 

"We’re living in a hostel at the moment. A six-bed shared dorm because it was the cheapest one available. I thought… maybe he could stay with you tomorrow at some point and I go out and find a job. I don’t have… I never… Look, I don’t have anything, okay? I don’t have a university education, I never actually went to university. I finished high school and then started working as a waitress right away. Waitresses are always needed and I promise you, I’ll find three jobs just so I don’t have to take your money. As soon as I have a job and get paid, I can afford a small flat for me and Gavroche. But, if you feel like we’re a burden, if you don’t want us in your life, then say so. Because I know that it might all just be a bit too much right now. You need to make up your mind quickly though. I don’t want him to get too attached and after half a year you decide that having a kid is too much work and responsibility, and you don’t want it anymore. I would love to stay in Paris and live here with Gavroche. I would love to be able to offer him a life in which his dad plays a role." 

Enjolras nodded, stood up and paced around his living room silently for a while before turning his attention back to her. 

"Okay, here's the deal: you and Gavroche stay here, of course. You don't get any money from me. If Gavroche needs anything, I go and buy it. He'll stay with a friend of mine tomorrow while you go and find a job. Until you've got one, you'll stay with me. Or rather with Gavroche in the guest bedroom. Then you move out and find yourself a flat. I am very busy at the moment, I don't have much time but once you've moved out, I want to see Gavroche at least every second day. Even if it's just for a few minutes before he goes to bed. Deal?"

"Deal." She nodded, a bright smile on her face, "That's more than I expected. Shall I get the stuff from the hostel right now?"

"No, you can do that tomorrow. I'll drop Gavroche off at my friend's place and take you to the hostel. But now I'll get you a jumper to sleep in and then I'll expect you to let me work. If you want something to drink or to eat, just take it."

With that, he left her in the living room to fetch her some sleeping clothes and to buy himself some time. Because when he woke up this morning, he would have never thought that his day would end with him becoming a father, much less with a young woman and said kid living in his flat for an indefinite time. He had to organize his thoughts, decide whether or not to trust her, if he would insist on a paternity test and if he wanted to tell his friends the truth. 

When Enjolras came back into the living room, he tossed Éponine the sleeping clothes, told her which time she was supposed to be up and ready and excused himself to bed. He couldn't possibly work with all that was going on in his head. 

The next few days went by slowly for both of them. Next to searching for a job, Éponine also tried finding a day care for Gavroche, which proved to be more difficult than she had thought. 

A month after she had moved in, Éponine cautiously tried to talk to Enjolras about their situation. Until now, they had barely talked. She had informed him that Gavroche wasn't aware of his real parents, that he thought her parents were his, too. Enjolras accepted the fact and presented himself as an old friend of Éponine. Even though he most certainly wasn't keen on having her around. But he loved Gavroche fiercely, she could see that every morning during breakfast. 

"Enjolras?" she tried it one evening after taking Gavroche to bed and reading him, together with Enjolras, an exciting bedtime story about dragons and mermaids.

"Hm?" The blond looked up from his notes and turned around to look at Éponine. 

By now, the young woman still seemed malnourished and he had no idea why. They always had breakfast and dinner together; Enjolras always made sure she and Gavroche ate enough. Ever since he first saw her he had suspected that something wasn't quite right about her, that she was too skinny for her own good. But now, after a month, he decided that maybe that was just the way her body was built. 

"Look, I've been trying to find a job for a month now. But let's face the facts: I can't do shit. And I can't work when Gavroche doesn't have a place in a day care. I can't bloody find one! I've searched literally everywhere, I swear! I'm not trying to trick you. I can show you all the letters they gave me."

"I believe you, Éponine." He sighed and ran his hand through his curls, a habit she had noticed many times. Enjolras reluctantly put down his thick-framed glasses (hipster-glasses, as Gavroche loved to call them) and made his way over to the sofa in front of which Éponine sat, newspapers and job ads all around her.

"I don't know what to do." She looked up at him, completely lost, "We can't continue to drop him off at Courfeyrac's house every morning. He needs to play with other kids, he needs to socialize and I don't know how I'm supposed to take care of him when I'm out all day, doing shit that doesn't fucking pay off."

"Maybe it's your attitude that doesn't get you any jobs."

"Well fuck you Monsieur Know-It-All," she huffed frustrated, "Maybe it's the fact that I'm raising a kid by myself, that I have no university education, that I'm not white, that I look like trash, that I have no fucking desire of actually working as a waitress!" Éponine growled and shook her head before she stood up and paced around the room.

"Maybe it's my fucking attitude, yes. Maybe it's not. Maybe I just want to turn back the fucking time and go to uni, maybe I just want to actually be able to offer Gavroche anything for once in his life! Maybe I just want to fucking take care of him without compromising my dreams but guess what: That's not fucking possible when you have a kid! You're fucking lucky you didn't need to raise him all by yourself!" 

She took a deep breath and stopped pacing. It was the first time Enjolras had seen her get emotional. She usually presented herself cold as ice; he knew this attitude just too well. His friends didn't call him The Marble Man for nothing.

It was also the first time she had ever spoken about her past since their first encounter a month ago. 

And it was the first time she had looked alive and, yes, even somewhat pretty.

"If you could choose any job, which would you choose?" he asked her after a few minutes of silence, after she had visibly calmed down and was sitting in her spot on the floor again. 

"I always wanted to be a social worker. Y'know, help families who are overwhelmed with their kids. Help the kids get out of abusive households before it is too late and they just... Ever since I was a young girl. I had the grades to get into uni after I finished high school. Granted, it took me longer, because of Gavroche, but I made it."

"So why didn't you go to uni then? Why don't you do it now? Your parents can take care of Gavroche, can't they?"

For the second time in one night, he saw fire in her eyes when she looked at him. 

"I'm not talking about my parents with you. Just trust me when I say I'd rather starve than leave Gavroche with them."

"Then I don't understand why you didn't leave earlier. You're what, 21? You could've left three years ago."

Éponine laughed darkly. "Pretty boy, don't talk about things you don't understand. Why don't you go back to your work? I take it you have no solution for the whole day care/work problem either? It's fucking ironic, isn't it? I read your latest article about how great the new childcare law is. Guess fucking what: it's a bullshit law and it doesn't apply to the people who really need it. You try to change the world and yet here I am, still in the same misery, despite you claiming to work towards a better future for Gavroche and me. You don't reach the people you want to help. We're you're target group yet everyone I know hates your political party because you don't seem to be authentic."

"How dare you. I'm doing everything I can! Once we're in the parliament, we can actually change things! We can make..."

"No you can't,” she interrupted him, "You can't. Don't you see that? You need to win us over. You've convinced the middle class of your ideas but the lower class doesn't trust you. I know I'm overstepping boundaries here, but I'm pretty fucking sure you don't care much about people who say yes to everything you think. Look, Enjolras, I don't want to anger you. I'm just saying that you need to work on your strategy. I'm your target group, I'm the one you want to help and while I believe in you, I don't believe you. You need to change that. I know you can. I saw and heard your speeches and you have so much fire and passion for the things you love. Your cause is to you what Gavroche is to me. You'd defend it with your life. You have no idea how much I admire you for it. But your ideas are bullshit and it will never work out the way you've played it until now."

She sighed and leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes. 

There was a silence while Enjolras tried to grasp everything she had just said. How dare she talk to him about things she didn't understand? Then again, hadn't he just done the same? He wanted to yell at her, wanted to reason with her. Enjolras fought hard with himself to control his shaking hands, balled into fists, because he knew, deep down, that she had a point. Most of their supporters came from the middle class. He had no idea about the actual situations in the lower class. All he had were statistics and stories. And Éponine. Maybe she and Gavroche were his greatest weapon. 

"Éponine? We need a new deal. One of my friends has kids himself. He and his wife would gladly take Gavroche in for a few mornings each week. I would like to take you and Gavroche with me for tomorrow's meeting. You can get to know my friends and then decide if you want to leave Gavroche with them. And..." He sighed and slipped from the sofa down next to her. 

"And you should enrol at university. You can apply for the government funding, everyone gets money. And with that you can pay the tuition fees. Don't worry about the rest. You'll stay here with me until we've found a better solution. They have a day care at the university, too, so Gavroche will be fine there. We can alternate between leaving him with Courfeyrac, the uni day care, and my friends. What do you think?"

Éponine slowly opened her eyes to look at him, mouth ajar and eyes wide. "No you can't mean that. That's... I can't live off you. That's not why I'm here. This is a test, isn't it? If I accept you know I want money so you throw me out. Is that it? Trust me, I don't want that. I'm capable of finding my way on my own."

"I'm not even giving you money. All I'm doing is offering you the support I should've offered you years ago."

"What's the catch? Something like that doesn't come without one. No one can be that good of a human being. Once I knew someone whom I would've believed those things. But you? Nothing against you, trust me, but that seems a bit out of character."

"Because you don't know me well enough to know who I am and how I act. Maybe we're just both learning something tonight. So?"

"I... I could be a social worker. I could go to uni, I could study it, I could help children."

She started to chew on her lower lip, her brows furrowed and her hands clenching and unclenching. Then, without further warning, she threw her arms around Enjolras and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He stiffly hugged her back, unsure about her sudden outburst of affection. 

"Is that a yes then?" 

"'Course that's a yes! I'm forever thankful. I would love to meet your friends! Mainly because, apart from you and Courfeyrac, I don't know anyone." She withdrew from him, smiling a little sheepishly. "And I don't even really know you two."

She doubted that Enjolras' friends were suitable of becoming her friends, too, but at least Courfeyrac seemed to be less earnest and much livelier than the blond. Though, frankly, that was not hard to achieve.

Enjolras could swear he wasn't prepared for how nervous Éponine was the next evening. He never regarded her as someone who cared about what other people thought of her but apparently he had been wrong. She had changed at least four times before deciding to wear her usual black skinny jeans and her favourite dark-green blouse. Feeling comfortable was the first step towards making friends. And having a bubbly Gavroche at her side, who instantly dragged her towards Courfeyrac as soon as they set foot into the Café Musain, helped, too.

"This is Courf", Gavroche told her excitedly.

"Yeah, I know! I meet him like every morning," Éponine giggled, throwing Courfeyrac a warm smile. 

"But have you met his boyfriend?" 

"If Enjolras isn't his boyfriend, then I haven't. Would you like to introduce me, Gavroche? Is he here?"

"Not yet," Courfeyrac grinned, "But he'll be here soon. I wouldn't be here either if Enjolras hadn't asked me a thousand times to please be early so Gavroche wouldn't feel lonely."

"Oh, he did? Huh." She nodded lightly, scanning the room for Enjolras. he was sitting in the far back, next to a man with glasses, with whom he seemed to have a heated discussion over a piece of paper.

"That's Combeferre," Courfeyrac filled her in, "Enjolras, him and me, we're kind of like the Golden Trio, the Triumvirate. Ferre and Enjolras are friends since their childhood and they balance each other out. Combeferre is a doctor. It all started with us three. Enjolras, the chief, Combeferre, the guide, and me, the centre. What's that face for?" he laughed as he observed Éponine's obvious look of confusion. "Surprised that our leader has close friends?"

"No, I knew about that! Remember, it's not the first time I meet all of you. Though the last time was quite a while ago, granted."

"Yeah, when you shagged him", a voice next to her said. 

Éponine jumped a little at the sudden noise, turning around to see a man with messy black hair and a nose as large as her own.

"So tell me, how was that, huh? Still can't believe he of all people actually..."

"Grantaire,” Courfeyrac intervened, nodding towards Gavroche.

"Oh, sorry, yeah. Just, you know, fill me in on the details later." The man, Grantaire, Éponine reminded herself, grinned at her with the most charming smiled, before he ruffled her hair and hugged her. 

"Oh and I'm R, by the way. Nice to meet you!" 

"Pleasure,” Éponine laughed and hugged him back, "I'm Éponine and if you ever decide to call me Eppie, I'll personally hide Lego bricks in your flat and wait for you to step on them."

Grantaire regarded her for a second, then laughed a deep and roaring laugh before he hugged her again. 

"Oh I'm gonna keep you, I like you."

Éponine grinned up at him. "Well you better, since I will probably stick around for a few more weeks or months or years."

Much to Enjolras' and Éponine's surprise, the evening was very enjoyable for both parties. Éponine laughed and joked around with Courfeyrac, Grantaire, and Bahorel, who had joined them shortly afterwards. She was introduced to everyone else and felt generally comfortable around the merry group of men. Only Combeferre seemed to eye her with weary suspicion but she decided to put her worries aside and not think too much of it. 

About two hours into the meeting, Éponine got ready to leave, as it was rather late already and Gavroche needed to sleep. She was just about to put on her coat, when a lanky man burst into the room, babbling out apologies for being too late. 

Éponine stopped in her tracks, her heart nearly stopping, too. There he was, the love of her teenager years. Still the same, still redheaded and freckled, still all over the place and a little awkward, still as gorgeous as ever. Her stomach didn't drop out of joy or love but of fear. What if he recognised her? What if he told everyone? What if he didn't recognise her? Did she really play such an insignificant role in his life? Éponine's mind raced, her thoughts started to tumble and she had to sit down again because she felt too sick to stand up any longer. Marius recognising her could be her downfall. But, aside from the fear creeping through her body, Éponine was pleasantly surprised to notice that she didn't feel attracted to him anymore. Granted, the last time she had seen him was five years ago. A crush really can't survive that long without seeing the other person. 

"Éponine," Enjolras smiled at her, "may I introduce you to Marius? He is the friend I told you about, the one with the kids." 

With her breath held, Éponine waited for Marius to say something. Anything. But he simply held out his hand and smiled at her.

"Hi, nice to meet you. Cosette and I gladly take Gavroche for a few mornings each week. We have two kids ourselves. Our little girl is three years old and our boy not yet a year. You really don't have to worry about Gavroche, I promise."

Enjolras noticed how forced her smile looked when she shook Marius' hand. Even the tone in her voice when she answered was full of displeasure. Luckily, Marius could be rather oblivious at times and this was such a moment.

They decided, since Éponine was not in uni just yet, that Gavroche would spend two mornings a week at their house. Another two would be spent with Courfeyrac, simply because Gavroche adored him so much and vice versa. Éponine didn’t mind, because not having Gavroche meant she could work. It was only part-time, not really well paid but she kind of liked the work at the bakery. Especially because it meant she could pay Enjolras a bit of rent. He didn’t want her to, at first, but she had argued in favour and convinced him.

He had asked her once what she would buy from the first money she earned. Apparently the answer ‘a football club membership for Gavroche’ was not what he had expected. One led to the other, and Enjolras had become a soccer dad in no time. And he loved it. When the little boy had matches at the weekend, usually all of Les Amis were there to support him. With banners Grantaire had drawn and motivational speeches Jehan had written. On more than one occasion, Gavroche had called them his ‘alternatively weird and non-conventional (a word he had picked up from Enjolras) sibling-family’. Éponine’s heart had fluttered every time.

After about two months of visiting Marius’ and Cosette’s children frequently, Gavroche had asked to stay overnight. Of course Éponine and Enjolras didn’t deny him his wish. As Éponine took this opportunity to go out with Bahorel, Grantaire and Courfeyrac, Enjolras had the flat all to himself. They went to some turtle race, Éponine had told him. But maybe it was just a pub called ‘Turtle Race’; he didn’t quite know. To his great surprise, everyone got on really well with Éponine. Sure, Combeferre was still weary of her, but even he had to admit that she was fun to be around. And Enjolras agreed. After her outburst two months ago, he had her look over his speeches and articles on several occasions to ask her opinion. He had talked it over with Combeferre and Courfeyrac; both had agreed that so far their target group and their followers did not overlap and that Éponine might be their best hope at changing that. By no means, this did not mean that Enjolras and Éponine spend an awful amount of time with each other. Quite the opposite, actually, as Éponine had the habit of going to bed right after they had finished their discussions and Enjolras had the habit of staying up late at night to read in the living room.

Though tonight he had decided to postpone the reading for another day and to simply relax a bit. Wearing sweatpants and a hoodie (he couldn’t find his favourite one anymore, neither in the laundry nor in his wardrobe), Enjolras sat on the sofa and watched a movie. About 15 minutes into the movie, he heard the front door open. Soon enough, Éponine flopped down on the sofa next to him.

For maybe five minutes, neither of them said a word, until: “May I hang out with you?”

“You kind of are already. What happened to your plans with the guys?”

“Oh the weird thing we were in got raided, so the turtle race never happened and we decided to call it a night and just go home. So here I am. And I’ll be right back.”

Éponine went into the room she shared with Gavroche (they had two beds now) and changed into her sleeping clothes, which essentially consisted of her knickers and an oversized sweater. She had the tendency to steal sweaters she liked from her friends and this one happened to be red, with the word ‘France’ written on it.

A bowl of popcorn in her hands, Éponine sat down next to Enjolras again.

“Nice sweater,” he remarked after a quick side-glance at her.

“Thanks! I got it from a friend of mine.”

“A friend, huh?”

“... are we not? I thought... well then I got it from my roommate.” She shrugged her shoulders and quickly ate some popcorn.

The thought of not being a friend of Enjolras made her stomach twist. Of course, how could she have been so foolish? They barely talked to each other. Well, not exactly. They did talk a lot. About Gavroche, about the meetings, about recent occurrences in France, her work, his work... but they have never had a heart-to-heart conversation. Maybe he didn’t even want her to hang out with him. Maybe he’d prefer it if she would simply leave. He didn’t seem to be particularly happy with her coming back so early. Three months living together and she knew hardly anything about him. It was pathetic, really, the whole way she was feeling about it. ­About him.

“Then I’m glad that your roommate is such a good friend and isn’t bothered by you stealing his clothes.”

In this moment, Enjolras pitied everyone who had never seen Éponine smile. She liked to see herself as a wolf but she seemed more like the moon she howled at.

She held his gaze for a moment before she dropped it bashfully and ate some more popcorn. With a grin, Enjolras stole some it and popped it into his mouth.

“Oi! That was mine.”

“Technically, it’s Gavroche’s.”

“Are you using the kid against me?”Éponine nudged his side and scooted a little closer. Only to share her blanket with him, of course.

“So, _A Knight’s Tale_ , huh? Never would’ve thought you liked that movie.”

“I’ll have you know, dear Mademoiselle Thénardier, that this is an excellent movie. It combines a classic story with a medieval setting and spices it up with the help of modern rock music. Did you know that Heath Ledger, after the success of _A Knight’s Tale_ , was offered a great career? All of Hollywood wanted him. And do you know what Ledger did? He locked himself in the bathroom and cried because he couldn’t handle it. Didn’t want to be turned into a Hollywood Hunk. He only chose to play roles with a message.”

“He did do _10 Things I hate about you_ though,” Éponine interrupted him, which was promptly met with a near death-glare by Enjolras.

He hated being interrupted and she knew it. She knew it, which is why she did it. It was so much fun to see him pissed and peeved.

“Which is an adaptation of _The Taming of the Shrew_ and that is why he accepted the role.”

“So you’re okay with Hollywood movies? I thought you would be more on the anti-Hollywood front. Because some people see them as mechanical reproductions and the furtherance of industrial capitalism. Do you not see it this way?”

Enjolras smiled lightly and shifted on the sofa, causing Éponine to bump against him.

“Oh, sorry...” she murmured, her cheeks heating up a little.

“No worries.” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Right, where was I?”

“Industrial capitalism, pretty boy.”

“Right. See, the thing with Hollywood movies is that there are so many different genres. I hate the Old Hollywood Studio System, because the actresses and actors could not choose their own image and were always type-casted. When Marilyn Monroe wanted to get out of that system, she had to fight hard and didn’t succeed. She was always type-casted, she always played the same role and the audience did not take her seriously. She took acting classes in hopes of better roles. Unfortunately, she died before she could revolutionise the system. Not many people know her true story. Most mainstream Hollywood movies feature white cis heterosexual couples with the man usually dominating the woman. But there are other movies, other great Hollywood Blockbusters which will influence whole generations. _Blind Side_ , _Philomena, Brokeback Mountain_. Just to name a few I really liked, who I believe will have a great influence. I personally was a fan of _12 Years A Slave_. It was brilliant and the world needs more movies like it. Hollywood can help to change the minds and Hollywood does help. A lot has to happen but I don’t see Hollywood movies as evil.”

Éponine couldn’t help it. While he spoke, her gaze kept dropping towards his lips more often than not. This was not okay and it could ruin everything. She should leave, she should not be this close to him, she should not... but why not? Tonight, she promised herself, was to enjoy herself a bit. And if that meant sitting shoulder to shoulder to Enjolras under a warm and fluffly blanket – so be it.

“So... if you like two Heath Ledger movies... have you ever heard of _Candy_? I really like that movie because it just shows you how....”

“... disillusioning love is,” finished Enjolras.

“Yes!” She laughed. “Exactly that! Even the biggest and truest love can break because love is shit, the love movies teach you is shit. That movie is real and honest and I love it.”

“Do you want to watch it afterwards? I have it. That is, if it isn’t too late for you. You always go to bed so early and never really go out.”

“And that, pretty boy, for a reason. Look, I know I’m quite a burden for you and you only put up with me because of Gavroche. So of course I don’t want to invade your life even more. I’m a child of the night, born and bred in the shadows. I go to our room early to let you study in peace. If I would stay in the living room with you, I’d probably try to talk to you or ask you questions about what you’re reading. I text R or Courfeyrac or Joly or Bahorel in the evenings or read a bit. Under the covers and with a torch, of course, so I don’t wake up Gavoche. And I don’t go out, even though Grantaire keeps asking me literally every day, because I feel bad leaving you alone with Gavroche. I can’t just dump him on you to have a night out. That’s not how it works. This is the first night ever I don’t fall asleep next to him.”

She didn’t stop watching the movie while she was talking. Éponine did not want to see Enjolras’ reaction. It could go either way and she’d rather not know it immediately. She’d rather hear the words because words could lie so easily. Words could build worlds but gazes only built graves.

Enjolras was silent for a moment.

“I didn’t know you don’t feel comfortable enough to be yourself. Have you always slept in the same room as Gavroche?”

“Yeah, of course. And my sister did, too. But we have two beds now, which makes it so much easier. I do feel comfortable, don’t worry about it.”

“You wouldn’t say you’re a burden if you’d be comfortable,” Enjolras muttered and finally tore away his eyes from the screen to look at her, “you’re not a burden to me. You did not force your presence upon me; you did not invade my life. Okay, you did, granted, but I would’ve found a different solution for the whole situation if I would mind you being around. You can go out whenever you want. I get that it will be complicated because our meetings are always until late... would you like to stay until the end rather than leave early with and because of Gavroche?”

“’Course I would. But it’s not possible. That’s the thing. When you raise a kid, you have to make sacrifices. Sometimes small ones, sometimes big ones, sometimes you even sacrifice your whole being, your personality, your health. All because this tiny human being means so much more.”

She turned to face him, and Enjolras was shocked to see the storm in her eyes. More than fire, more than thunder; her eyes radiated her being.

“And you don’t regret a single second because it is so worth it. Have you seen Gavroche? He is amazing and I am so proud of him. You know what Marius told me? A few days ago he refused his nap-time because, and I quote, ‘nap-time is a concept thrust upon the children of the world to ensure the hindrance of their growth’. I love him more than anything and I gladly devote my life to him.”

“But?”

“There is no but. There cannot be a but. Can we just... you know?” She gestured towards the telly and ate some more popcorn.

“Éponine... spill it. What can I do to make up for the lost years?”

“You’re doing more than enough.”

“I’m not ending this conversation before we figure something out.” Enjolras grabbed the remote and paused the movie before he turned towards Éponine again.

“Talk to me. I know, we never do. But we should maybe start this because we’re in this together now.”

“Until you start rescuing France and walk out on us, yes. So maybe another year or two?”

Enjolras sighed in frustration.

“Just tell me what I can do.”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“You do, you’re just too proud to say it.”

“Oh am I? Do you know me that well, pretty boy, do you? Well guess fucking what: I’d love to simply hang out with you sometimes but you make it so fucking hard to like you. How do I know I don’t say something stupid, something that goes against your beliefs, something that upsets you? What if I told you that I fucking love to get shitfaced every once in a while? How do I know that you don’t shun me, like you always do with Grantaire? I don’t fucking know what I want or what you could do because I don’t fucking know who I am because all I did for the last years was raising Gavroche and my sister while earning money and somehow finishing school. The last three months were the first time I could actually breathe freely in ages. The first time I could stay in bed until noon, only having to fear your judging looks but never to fail school or to get kicked out of the fucking three jobs I had at the same time. Can we just please watch the movie? Enjolras, please.”

He was on the verge of saying something, of snapping back at her but chose not to. Picking a fight was not wise. It would not benefit their relationship and it would not make her feel better. And somehow, for some odd reason, despite everything he knew, he did want her to feel well and comfortable around him.

Enjolras simply turned the movie on again and, after a moment of hesitation and inner battle with himself, drew Éponine into his arms. Even though he was not that much a fan of the whole cuddling thing, he knew Éponine loved it all the more. Not a day went by without her hugging most of the Amis. It took her a while to warm up to a few people and she still didn’t hug Marius or Combeferre, but the rest got hugged randomly and on a regular basis. Another indicator that she didn’t feel comfortable around him: She never hugged Enjolras.

But now she leaned against him, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her small frame. And they both felt as if the sun had never set.

Over the course of the next few months, Éponine and Enjolras started to have one evening per week to spend some time together. It usually began in arguments about his articles or her attitude towards drugs and alcohol but always ended in laughter and a great deal of fun.

Enjolras had found out that Éponine was not as cold as she loved to present herself and she had found out the same about him.

She started hugging him, first cautiously and only in their own flat but by now, seven months after she had moved in, she hugged him randomly during meetings and had picked up the habit of throwing him angry glances when he began scolding Grantaire for no reason.

Éponine kept stealing his sweaters, even wore them to uni occasionally. She started pressing chaste kisses to his cheek when he seemed to be brooding over an especially complex reading task or when she said goodbye to him in the mornings. He never complained once.

Now, Éponine was pacing in the room of a small and rather filthy hostel, her brows furrowed and her shoulders hunched.

“I can’t do this anymore, sorry. It doesn’t work. It’s not right.”

“Since when do you care about right or wrong?” a voice from the bed wondered.

“I always did. And you know it. I’ll tell him, ‘Parnasse, I don’t care. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“What do you think he’ll say, huh?” the man in question asked her, “Do you think he’ll forgive you? Do you think he’ll let you stay? Oh ‘Ponine, don’t be so naive!”

“He won’t throw me out. He likes me. He cares about me.”

“You said those words before. Six years ago. And back then they were about another rich white boy. Just accept it, ‘Ponine. They don’t care about scum like you. They can have any woman they want. Why choose you? That boy back then didn’t. He went and had kids with some pretty girl. Your precious Enjolras isn’t any different than that Pontmercy-lad. I’m the only one who cares about you. Now come back to bed.”

“Enjolras and Marius are nothing alike!” she snapped at Montparnasse, “they are different men! Marius was young back then, I was even younger. Different situations, different men, different me.”

“Alright, okay. Let’s, hypothetically, believe that Enjolras actually likes you,” Montparnasse sat up and stretched himself, marvelling at the hateful look Éponine threw him.

“Now imagine, ‘Ponine, imagine I would go to him and tell him about this little affair of ours. Imagine I’d tell him how you first fucked me when you were 14 and how we never stopped fucking, not even when you were so in love with Marius. Imagine how he, who is hypothetically in love with you, would react if I’d tell him that this whole thing was your idea. Because that’s what he needs to know. If you want to tell him everything, are you going to tell him that it was your idea to present your brother as your son? Are you going to tell him that it was your idea to take Gavroche to him and to lie to Enjolras? Are you going to do that, Éponine? You fucking know what that would mean, right? Imagine the one you love would’ve lied to you all these months. Would you forgive that person?”

“I... you wouldn’t do that.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Seven months and we haven’t seen any money. Are you even trying, ‘Ponine?”

“Of course I’ve tried! But it’s of no use. Enjolras doesn’t give me any money. He gives us lots, but never money. I am going to tell him and you can’t stop me.”

“Just think about it, ‘Ponine. He will never forgive you if he finds out.”

Of course Éponine had thought about it. And she knew Montparnasse was right. It had been her idea to trick a man into thinking Gavroche was his son. It had been her who picked Enjolras. Because she had remembered that unruly friend of Marius’, that guy who had tried to persuade everyone in the room to join his cause by yelling at them. She had remembered his red hoodie and his golden curls. He looked so much like Gavroche; it would be easy to fool him. She had even prepared for the eventuality that he wanted to take a paternity test. Éponine knew how to fool people. But now she had fallen fool to her own feelings.

Montparnasse had succeeded. She would not tell Enjolras the truth. He would shun her. She could live with it, yes. Not being with him, not being with his friends anymore (because, surely, they would shun her, too) would be her punishment and she would accept it with her head held high. But what about Gavroche? Enjolras loved him. Would he still love him if he knew he wasn’t his son? Maybe. But maybe not. And even if, when he shunned Éponine, Gavroche was lost, too. She couldn’t do this to her brother.

But there was one thing she could do. For herself and her conscious.

“Alright. We won’t stop this. I’ll get you your money. But there’s a condition.”

“Spit it out, love.”

“Exactly that. No more ‘love’, no more ‘sweetheart’. No more fucking, kissing or touching. I don’t even want to call you. If I get money, I’ll make sure half of it ends up on your bank account. But I don’t want to have you anywhere near me ever again. You understand?”

“Oh ‘Ponine. We both know you can’t resist me. You’ll be back in my bed within a week.”

And he was right. Not a week later, Éponine once again found herself with Montparnasse. It wasn’t because she wanted to but because he knew her pressure point. And because she knew that he could rat her out anytime. And she could not do that to Gavroche. He could not lose Enjolras.

So she went on. Lied to Enjolras and all the friends she had made over the last few months. It pained her to no extent. How could she lie to Jehan, who always saw the beauty while she only saw the pain? She couldn’t lie to Grantaire. He had become her best friend. She told him everything. Well, nearly everything. She told him about how her view on Enjolras had changed, told him how infatuated she was. How could she betray her best friend?

Over the next few months, all of her friends noticed her change. She withdrew herself more often, and Enjolras could see that her smile wasn’t as genuine anymore. He was worried. So worried that he actually called Grantaire to ask him if he knew anything. But even he couldn’t tell Enjolras what was wrong. To his knowledge, she simply had a lot of stress at uni and at work.

So he tried. He tried to smile more at her, even when he was stressed out. It was surprisingly easy; the smile came automatically whenever he looked at her. He suggested taking Gavroche by himself for a day, to give her some peace and quiet, so she could relax properly.

It did not have the desired effect. Quite the contrary actually. By the time they came back from the zoo, all smiles and giggled, Éponine was trembling. Taking in her state, Enjolras decided to run Gavroche a bath. While the tub filled with water, the boy chatted away happily, telling his sister all about his morning at Courfeyrac’s and his afternoon with Enjolras at the zoo. He even took a photo of Enjolras petting a donkey! Éponine promised to print that one out so they could hang it on the wall with all the other photos of their friends.

Once Gavroche was in the bathtub, Enjolras sat down next to Éponine.

“What’s wrong? And don’t you dare try the ‘nothing’ strategy on me. You’ve not been yourself for weeks now. Is it uni? Is it work? Is it Gavroche?”

“It’s not Gavroche. I can take care of him, thank you very much,” she snapped at him. Éponine sighed. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“I didn’t doubt your ability to care for him. But I doubt you can go on like this any longer. Whatever it is that upsets you, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“No. No, there’s no way this is fixable. It’s just... it’s just stress at uni. So much to read and sometimes I don’t even understand how the hell some of the things are supposed to help me in the future. They’re in no way practical. It’s some theoretical bullshit made up by petty aristocrats who have probably always belonged to the fucking bourgeoisie, who have probably never lived on minimum wage, let alone on the streets! They have no fucking clue how it really is! They are as blind as you used to be. It’s frustrating.”

“And that’s what’s upsetting you?”

Éponine threw him a death glare.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way. ‘Ponine... It was just me asking you if there is anything more that’s bothering you. I understand the whole issue you have. Remember, you are the one who changed my mind on quite a few things because you have the experience. Speak up. Tell them why the texts you have to read are shit. Reason with them. It worked with me, it surely will work with your teachers.”

Enjolras cupped her face and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Let me know if I can do something.”

“Yeah...” she breathed, “you actually could.”

“Tell me.” He kissed her forehead again before he brought some decent distance between them to look at her. A wave of pride overcame him as he took in her flushed cheeks and the slight but genuine smile on her lips.

“Could we order Indian food and watch Doctor Who?”

Enjolras groaned. “Again? Oh I bet I know exactly which episode you want to watch. Alright. Let’s get Gavroche to bed and then we can watch _Midnight_.”

Her light smile spread and soon enough her eyes were sparkling. “Thank you.”

She had her moments from then on. Moments in which she would be like before, moments in which she simply didn’t care about lying to all of them because her life was just so brilliant.

Éponine and Gavroche had lived with Enjolras for over a year now when he suggested finding a bigger apartment. She couldn’t keep living in one room with Gavroche, that was not a long-term-solution. Of course she had protested. She couldn’t really afford it, not with her part-time job and going to uni. And of course Enjolras had told her that it wasn’t a problem, that he made enough money. So they had moved into a bright and newly renovated apartment, with a bedroom for everyone, a fireplace, an open kitchen, and a big dining room to host all their friends.

A week after they had moved in, when everything was sorted out and didn’t look like a pile of boxes anymore, they hosted a house warming party (Courfeyrac had organized the party. Both Enjolras and Éponine were not too keen on it) and soon enough all their friends had gathered. The best thing though was that Éponine had not told Montparnasse about the move. She had a new phone number and there was no way he could find her now. Then again, she knew how good he was at finding people.

“’Ponine? There’s someone here for you,” Grantaire called from the hallway, “I’ll send him in.”

When the man entered the living room, Éponine froze. He threw her a charming smile as he stepped towards her.

“You,” she hissed, “you get out of here this instant or I’ll forget myself.”

“Oh ‘Ponine, why so hostile? I’m just here because you’re still mine, remember? You can’t just leave me.”

“I’m not yours anymore. And I haven’t been for a long time.”

“So the sex a few weeks ago didn’t mean you’re mine?”

Éponine could practically feel everyone’s eyes on her. Grantaire, who had entered the room after Montparnasse, cautiously made his way towards her, and Bahorel was already at her side.

“You have a boyfriend?” It was Marius who had completely misinterpreted the situation. His wife threw him a scolding look; clearly Éponine did not want to be associated with whoever it was.

“Yeah, ‘Ponine, do you have a boyfriend?” Montparnasse grinned, “Is it Goldielocks over there?” He nodded towards Enjolras.

“I’m not in the mood for your games, ‘Parnasse. Fuck off.”

“You heard her,” Enjolras stepped in, “Leave or I’ll call the police.”

“Oh, please do so,” he sneered, “then Éponine can tell them about the shoplifting and the stealing and, oh, yes, right! About Gavroche not being your kid.”

If it hadn’t been for Bahorel, Éponine sure enough would’ve lunged at Montparnasse to tear his throat out. But her friend had placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Your new flat is really nice, ‘Ponine,” Montparnasse went on, “Shame you have to leave soon. I’m sure Apollo over there won’t keep you now that nothing’s binding you to him. No problem though, you know my door’s always open. It’s a pity you have to give away this life. But, you know, playing such a trick... and then it was all your idea. Who would’ve thought?”

“I can explain,” Éponine piped up, “Enjolras, I can explain.”

“Be my guest,” he retorted.

She stepped towards him, cautiously, only a few steps, so she could lightly place her hand on his arm.

“I am so sorry, I really...”

“I want the explanation.”

“Yeah, right, sorry.” She withdrew her hand and began fidgeting with the hem of her (or rather: Enjolras’) sweater.

“He’s right. I lied to you. To all of you. Gavroche isn’t my kid, he’s my brother. I needed money and I remembered you, from back in the day. From the time I was so hopelessly in love with Marius. I remembered you because you had tried to convince me of your silly little plan, of this demonstration you had planned. I remembered you because I asked you how your mother would find it if her son would swear so much. Just to tease you. And you, being really slightly tipsy, were pretty much upset about that,” Éponine laughed a bit, “Oh it was glorious to watch. I loved and still love to rile you up. So I found you again. I had everything figured out. Even how to fake a paternity test. I wanted your money.”

“Why past tense?”

“What?” She looked up at him, her brows furrowed.

“Why did you want it but don’t want it anymore? If that’s even the case.”

“Oh... because I found something better. True, money can buy happiness because financial stability is one fucking great thing. But I found you guys. I found true and genuine friends. I found brothers for Gavroche and... and I found you, Enjolras. I don’t want your money because you gave me something so much better. You gave me hope. God, you have no idea, have you? I was dreading this life. I hardly ate, I harmed myself, I have scars all over my body from it. I hated it so much. The only thing that got me out of bed in the mornings was Gavroche. And now there are so many things. There’s breakfast with silly shared glances and eyerolls because how can Gavroche be that bubbly in the mornings? There’s take-out food and movie evenings, laughing about Bossuet’s stories, poetry slams with Jehan, turtle races with Courfeyrac, shopping trips with Musichetta and Cosette, a proud Gavroche when he comes back from football practice. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. All of your trust.”

Éponine bit her lower lip, trying to somehow ease the tension in her body and the room. Soon enough she could feel blood as everyone proceeded to stay quiet.

“I... oh God. I’ll get my stuff and wake Gavroche.” She turned towards Montparnasse, then back to Enjolras. “Can’t he at least stay? Just for a few days, just until I’ve sorted everything out. I promise to be quick. Please.”

“You can live we me,” she heard Montparnasse, voice dripping with honey, “I’ve got a nice flat and it can be just like it used to be.”

Éponine turned around, furiously. “I’d rather live on the streets or sell myself than to live with you again.”

“You’re not 18 anymore, those days are over. You know, Gavroche can stay in the football club and the day care. I’ll take care of him. He’ll always have enough to eat, he’ll always have a warm place to sleep.”

Against better knowledge, Éponine nodded lightly. She knew Montparnasse would keep Gavroche save. Because keeping the little boy save meant keeping her at his side. And that’s all he ever wanted.

“Woah, now hold up a minute. I didn’t throw you out yet, did I?”

“You’re not exactly asking me to stay either.” Éponine turned towards Enjolras. “And I don’t blame you. I lied to you, I betrayed you, I made you think Gavroche was your son.”

“I knew it all along. We all did.”

“I don’t understand...”

“The second you turned up on my doorstep and told me your story I knew you lied. I knew I can’t have a five year old son because I was still a virgin back then. I told everyone about it and as soon as I mentioned your name, Marius and Cosette remembered you. Except for Combeferre, they were all on board with the plan.”

Her heart leaped; Marius had indeed remembered her. But somehow, Éponine didn’t care about that. Sure, she apparently had played a role in his life, and that was a great satisfaction. Yet it didn’t mean a lot to her anymore.

“What plan?” She stepped closer, her voice trembling.

“I thought... you know, when someone has to use your strategy... you seemed desperate and I wanted to help. I wanted to see how long you would keep it up. I asked Cosette and Marius to conceal that they know and remember you.”

“It was really hard. We used to be sisters and I was so glad you were back.”

“You all knew, do I get that right? You all fucking knew? You all played me?” She whirled around and pointed at Grantaire. “You! You knew? You’re a fucking good liar. You never spilled a word, not even when you were completely shitfaced. Congrats, you’re a true friend. At least to Enjolras.”

“You have no right to get angry at us, Éponine,” Enjolras warned her, “you did the same thing to us.”

“You have no idea.” She took a deep breath before she turned to face Enjolras again. “You have no fucking idea. I slept with that guy just so he wouldn’t rat me out. I slept with him so Gavroche could stay in this happy place. I slept with him because I was afraid. I shoplifted because he threatened to tell you everything. And you know what? That’s not even the fun part of the story.” Éponine laughed and spun around slowly until she stopped to face Cosette.

“Let’s start a few years back now, shall we? I’m your sister you say? Where were you when I needed you, huh? They took you away and they left me and Azelma. Because we’re the biological children. And you never came back. Lucky you though. ‘Cause my parents lost the inn. Became con-people. Murderers. Montparnasse over there helped them on several occasions. We lived in a trailer. That is, if we didn’t live on the streets. I stole, I shoplifted. My father sold my body when I was 13. To Montparnasse, occasionally. And then I had this glimpse of sunshine when I met Marius. Lucky you again. But you know what? Your husband gave me the motivation to actually get a job. Or three, at that time. I rented a flat under my mother’s name because she was pregnant and I wanted the kid to grow up in a proper home. They didn’t want him, thought about selling him. But I promised, you know? I promised them I’d be good and make money just so they wouldn’t give Gavroche away.”

Éponine shook her head and paced around the room, not looking at anyone directly.

“I raised him. I raised him and I raised Azelma.”

She stopped before Enjolras. By now, Montparnasse had already left. This had not gone according to plan, this was too risky. He wasn’t sure anymore that Éponine wouldn’t call the police and he couldn’t gamble with that possibility.

“And when I was 17, my mother was imprisoned and my father left to America. Took my sister with him. Haven’t seen her since. But you know what? That was when Montparnasse helped me out. I couldn’t handle three jobs, a kid and an education. So he gave me money. And I fucked him. I helped him to rob houses, I made all the plans. And then I made the best plan. Because this plan could save Gavroche from my fate. I would give him a father. I would give him a family. Montparnasse wasn’t happy to let me go, to say the least. But he knew we’d make a great deal of money. And I still fucked him because he could reveal everything at anytime. Do you still think it was a great idea to play me? You lied to me, just like I lied to you. My lie only cost you money. Your lie cost me my dignity. Worse than that. It will ultimately cost Gavroche everything. I’m not fucking concerned about myself. I can deal with all of you faking to like me. But Gavroche?”

“We never lied about liking you,” Grantaire said, “At least I didn’t. And I know Courf and Bahorel like you. We all do.”

“Now, do you?” Her eyes were still fixed on Enjolras, who started to look slightly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know, Éponine. If I had known...”

“I know. Wouldn’t want your social project to get ruined, would you?”

“You’re not a social project. At least not anymore. Haven’t been for a long time.”

“I know.” Her gaze softened a bit, “I know I’m not.”

Without a warning, Éponine was suddenly hugged from behind. Not by one person, but by all of her friends. All but one, because Enjolras stood outside of the group, smiling at her. Even Combeferre hugged her, mumbling an apology.

“’S alright, Ferre,” she smiled, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“If he throws you out, you can live with us,” Bossuet assured her.

“But kids catch colds so quickly...” Joly protested, which earned him a half-sob-half-laugh from Éponine.

“Then you can move in with me! I can turn my painting room into a kid’s room.”

“Gavroche is living with me for an afternoon a week anyway, you can come and live there, too,” Courfeyrac grinned.

“Aren’t you guys forgetting that she already lives with me? I’m not giving her away.”

At Enjolras’ words, Éponine started to laugh. “You couldn’t give me away if you wanted to! Partially because I always come back, partially because people don’t belong to other people. That’s what you keep saying.”

She made her way towards Enjolras and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back tightly and placed a soft kiss on her nose.

“But I would like you to be mine,” he whispered.

“Even though I lied?”

“I lied, too.”

“Yeah you did.” Éponine lightly slapped his arm before she, finally as most of their friends thought, kissed him.

Kisses liked to be described as fireworks. As perfect, as taste A plus taste B plus something that was indescribably the other person.

That just simply wasn’t the case. There were no fireworks, nor butterflies in their stomachs. It was just her and him, Éponine and Enjolras. Her lips slightly chapped, his a bit too cold. A fair amount of biting his lower lip while her fingers raked through his hair; his hands finding their way up and down her sides and her back. Their noses collided and it was nothing like the movies they used to watch.

Because this was real. And reality might not treat you well all the time, reality might break you, might take your fire, might not be perfect. But neither of them longed for perfection. Neither of them longed for the boredom that came with true perfection. They longed for falling off the sofa because neither wanted to give up a comfortable position, for snorting their drink out of their noses from laughing too hard, for having to fight for the blanket at night and waking up to snoring.

They longed for each other. 


End file.
